


Dragons Are More Fun Than Robots

by Winder



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: M/M, attempt at a different writing style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 16:56:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9334268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winder/pseuds/Winder





	

Pairing: Tadashi Hamada / Hiccup Haddock  
Disclaimer: Don't own BH6 or HTTYD  
Winder: This idea actually came from a tumblr post I saw once and couldn't get out of my head. :P Enjoy if you can.

Dragons Are More Fun Than Robots 

He sighs, yanking the glasses off his faces as he runs a hand through his hair. It's late, and everyone else has gone home hours ago, each bidding him a farewell and warning him not to work too hard. He can't work any other way though. He is Tadashi Hamada, and he won't stop working until he knows everything is fine and in working order.   
This is where he's stumped.  
While working he's broken his wrench. He doesn't have a spare. Normally he would have asked his friends, but their gone and Wasabi has taken his home for the weekend. Gogo doesn't have any of course, she just likes to snatch up other people's tool when she needs one. Honey doesn't work in a field where tools are needed. He highly doubts any sort of glass breaker would help with his problem. Fred's 'work space' is also useless, full of nothing but comic books and empty pizza boxes.   
He should just go home. It's like a sign from up above telling him to go home, maybe get some sleep, to rest his brain and start fresh on Monday. He refuses to listen.  
So instead he gets up, and starts in a direction he normally tries to avoid. A direction where he knows there is at least one other soul in the building. Another person that shares his obsession with perfection. Another person who won't stop until he get's it right,   
It's too late, or maybe too early, to talk to anyone and hope that they're still in a good mood. Tadashi should know, even he's a little on edge and he's always in a good mood.   
(Almost always.)   
He has to remind himself that visiting this area leaves a bad taste in his mouth.   
He's desperate though, and desperate people are always known to do stupid things.   
There's grumbling from the other side of the frost covered glass, nearly hissing as another body is seen hunched over their own desk. It rings loud and clear the closer that he draws himself to their room. It's almost like a warning, and his brain is telling him to go back. To retreat and listen to fate. To go home, to see his little brother and his Aunt in the morning and make plans with them for the weekend. Only after he's done studying that is.   
He doesn't listen. He never really does.   
There's no reason to bother knocking, so he just pushes open the door. There's also no surprise in the least when the man sitting at the desk turns to face him, he always knows when someones in his area. It doesn't matter how quiet they are. There's no words. Never really has been since that first time they met. A time that he tries to wipe out of his mind but never can. A time where the great and level headed Tadashi lost his cool and started an all out fist fight in front of the whole school.   
He didn't win.  
But neither did this guy.   
(Wrench?)   
Less words is better. Less words gives little for the silver tongued serpent to work with to spit back in his face with a sharp sting and a deadly poison. He's seen countless others fall that way.   
He prefers to stay standing.   
A mutter is what he receives. A mutter of that foreign language that he can't piece together. A language that sounds graceful and ancient. A language that he knows the other is insulting him in.   
He's ignored. Something he prefers above anything else. Right now though he needs that wrench. Being ignored is not an option.   
He walks further into the room. It might as well be a dragons den. He can almost hear the bones of the latest victims shattering under his feet like glass. That's ridiculous. The floors spotless. Looking in it is like taking a step in to Tadashi's own space. -But This places isn't his. Every step in is like jumping off a cliff over and over.   
His waiting to hit the bottom.   
He draws to close. The beast turns its head.   
Eyes lock. Brown clashing with green for split moments.   
(I'll bring it right back.)   
(Fuck off Ham.)  
Ah. Fuck. The beast is too tired to think of anything more colorful than that. He's just as close to exhaustion as Tadashi is.   
For no reason the idea makes him smile. It's just nice to know that even monsters need sleep to function.   
(Don't be a fucking ass.)   
Words he never uses around anyone else slip out all to easily around this man. Every secretly kept thought always manages to come spilling out. His true character emerges, he can almost hear the purr in it. The freedom is intoxicating.   
The feeling is what he hates most.   
He hates slipping. He hates breaking down so easily and submitting his true form to this creature. He hates that he loves it. He hates that the other knows this.   
A smile, something that he could easily compare a vicious perpetrator to, stretches across the man's face. It's twisted and dark, downright evil. It's enough to make his skin crawl and the idea of leaving look good. He needs that wrench though. He's not leaving without it.   
(Bite me robobanger.)  
-And he does.  
White teeth sink into tanned skin. Starts at the shoulder, moves its way up to the neck.   
The hunted has become the hunter.   
It's not for long though. It never is.   
A rough hand grabs his wrist. It tugs on the arm that had been resting on the desk few short moments ago. Tadashi's a little thrown off balance, most of his weight had been resting in that one arm. His wrist is yanked up, raised to a pair of chapped lips. His mouth goes dry when his fingers disappear pass a pair of slightly pale lips. It's the bit that makes him hiss.   
He knows there's a mark. He knows. He can feel the blood slipping down his fingers and being swept away by a pointed tongue. That asshole. Bites that leave marks are hard to explain.   
Tadashi has become a master at it.   
His hand is in use, but his mouth isn't, so he leans forward while the others distracted. A wet tongue reaches out and strokes a strong, tanned throat. He's running over the marks, almost a form of apology. Not that he ever would out loud. The words wouldn't be able to fall from his mouth. He'd choke before he'd ever let that happen.   
The mouth is moving from his fingers, letting them slip out with such a lewd 'pop' that there's no way his own growl can't mix in with the air and his teeth can't bite down a little harder. His actions aren't appreciated, or maybe they are. A twist of his fingers is hard to translate when it's coming from this man. Pain is both a form of apology and a taunt with this guy.   
(Hiccup.)   
It's the first time he's uttered his name. The first time since they were introducing each other and Tadashi jumped at him. It's strange, watching the effect of this word.   
The man still sitting looks angry. He seems to want to reach out and pick up where they left off all those months ago, but there's something underneath that too.   
(Hiccup.)   
He mutters the name again, poking at the animal behind the bars. He wonders just how bad it would be if he unlocked the cage.   
His mouth is close to their ear now, biting at the lobe, licking the shell.   
(Hiccup.)  
The beast snaps.   
A strong yank on his hand that is hard enough to make Tadashi wonder if the guy is even human. A clatter of a chair as it smashes to the ground seconds after Hiccup has stood up makes him wince at the shattering silence.   
There's a hand on his throat. It's tight but he's still breathing so he's not to worried. He almost snickers in amusement at the sight of the wild green eyes and the slightly crooked teeth that he knows just want to bite into him. To mark him.   
It's an outcome he had been expecting, not one he'd been looking for but he'll take it as it is.   
A project needs to be done. He's sure that's the reason he came in here. This turns out to be more fun to tinker with than any of the hard, cold, metal that's waiting in his lab though.   
Hand moving up to tighten in the brown hair that's had a hand run through it one to many times he decides to forget robots.   
Dragons are way more fun.


End file.
